


standing strong where I belong

by ThirdActLove



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21928933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdActLove/pseuds/ThirdActLove
Summary: Lira San was a sunny planet.Or, a day in the peaceful life of Alexsandr Kallus and Garazeb Orrelios.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 14
Kudos: 104





	standing strong where I belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dykeannebonny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dykeannebonny/gifts).



> *shows up a year late to the Rebels fandom with wild eyes and a fulcrum tattoo* Anybody want some Kalluzeb and flowers fluff??
> 
> Title from "Love Won't Let Me Leave" by Seafret
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! Enjoy!

Lira San was a sunny planet. If Kallus had to classify it--and he was trying to--he would not be able to call it singly covered in desert, plains, or mountains, because it contained all three ecosystems on its expansive surface. What it was, he decided rather simply one day, was _beautiful._

The morning sun cast golden rays upon the valley while the wind rushed between the blades of grass. The breeze was a pleasant one, full of sunshine and pine needles. Kallus breathed in deeply.

He leaned into Zeb’s chest, smiling when Zeb’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. Zeb’s arms were heavy, but his fur was light and soft against Kallus’ face, and the weight was comforting rather than constricting--a gesture of affection rather than entrapment. Kallus sank as if he were boneless into Zeb’s grasp, confident Zeb would hold him upright.

Some Lasat younglings were playing near the base of a mountain. The slope was rife with trees, footpaths, and boulders. Kallus watched Lira San’s younglings, struck by the nature of their games. Although it had been years ago, he could still remember the activities of his own youth: pretending at war, using sticks as blasters, capturing prisoners on the playground. His childhood had been robbed from him by the Empire. These younglings, on the other hand, were limitless in their imaginations. They had built a peaceful little cantina out of the materials they could find in the valley. A fallen log was their counter; they constructed stools from stones, credits from leaves, and they decorated their establishment with various native flower species.

Kallus had been attempting to catalogue those flowers in his free time. The most abundant flora on the planet, an immense violet bloom, he had named the _Gara_. Kallus blushed just thinking about it--Zeb had no idea. However, the Lasat elders had applauded Kalllus’ naming choice and put it in their own journals, which meant it was only a matter of time before Zeb went to the library and found out. Kallus smiled foolishly as he pictured Zeb’s reaction: ears shocked still, mouth stretching into a toothy grin that ended in wild laugh, and his hands holding Kallus’ face before they kissed... 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Zeb prompted, jostling his companion. Zeb always got Kallus’ attention physically. Perhaps it was a remnant of their time as enemies, time spent attacking and inciting. Perhaps, though, it was to make up for time not spent touching and learning one another.

 _Here I am,_ that jostle said, _but where are you?_

Kallus hummed. “Oh, nothing,” he replied, the music still gracing his words.

Zeb didn’t press him for a real answer. He simply held Kallus tighter and waited. Kallus relaxed into the embrace, warm and contented, floating as if very tired, or possibly very drunk. He had not yet done a thorough examination of the air quality on Lira San. He considered how happy he had been in his days on the planet, and wondered momentarily if the atmosphere was affecting him.

But no--it was just Garazeb, with his patient, lazy grin and velvety fur. Garazeb, with a scent like freshly brewed kaf. Garazeb, whose chest was impossibly hot and vibrating and--

“Zeb, are you purring?” Kallus raised himself from a sitting position to a crouch and turned to face Zeb.

“What! No!” Zeb’s features twisted. His eyebrows went up and his ears went down. One clawed hand left Kallus’ chest and rubbed the back of his own head self-consciously.

If Kallus looked close enough--and he always did--he could see the colors brighten Zeb’s golden-green eyes and his black pupils widen. Zeb was a lot of things, but he was not a particularly skilled liar. All Kallus had to do was grin and Zeb melted in front of him, wrapping his hands around Kallus’.

Zeb then put both their hands on his chest and pressed down so Kallus could feel the sound resonate again. “Alright,” he admitted. “I was purring. Happy, Kal?”

Kallus shifted closer. The angle hurt his knee, and Zeb must have known, because he pulled them both to the ground and into a disorderly pile of limbs and laughter. Years ago Kallus would have complained about grass-stains on his pristine uniform. _Karabast_ , years ago Kallus would have arrested Zeb on the spot.

That was then. Now, Kallus curled into Zeb, chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart. They were so close that Kallus could feel Zeb’s mouth move when he spoke. Zeb whispered, “You wanna know why?”

Kallus knew why. Still, he answered, “Yes.” The word was for Zeb’s ears alone.

Or, he thought it was. He felt and heard, rather than saw, a Lasat youth come to stand over Zeb’s torso. Her eyes were big and curious, and in her hand she held a little cake made out of some dirt and served on a flat piece of wood.

“Refreshment, Captain Garazeb?” she asked. The younglings revered Garazeb. And although Kallus knew Zeb would never admit it, he loved being a part of their lives, and would do anything for any single one of them. He loved their games and smiles and shrill laughter, and Kallus adored him all the more for it.

Zeb rolled onto his back. “We don’t have any credits,” he told the girl. He opened his arms in his helplessness, additionally presenting the lack of pockets in his outfit in which to hold currency. Zeb had traded his usual cargo fatigues for a pair of tight trousers and a loose white sweater. Kallus found it a terrific improvement.

Kallus recognized the round-faced girl; he had visited the Lira San School for Research and met many of the classes. The child, Afazeema, considered Zeb’s predicament. Her feet shifted closer to Zeb, then returned to their original spot. She glanced at her playmates, who were all much farther away and enjoying their own muddy feast.

Kallus plucked a few petals from a nearby unclassified flower. It was yellow and spiky, with very short petals, but they would have to do. “Here, Afazeema,” he prompted.

She walked to Kallus, took the payment, and then set the plate down near Zeb. Afterwards, she giggled merrily and ran back to her friends with the flower raised high in her tiny fist. Kallus could just hear her bragging about her riches over Zeb’s hearty guffaw.

“I think you overpaid,” he said, poking at the ‘cake.’ It crumpled with one touch.

“And here I thought it was some Lasat delicacy.” Kallus managed to keep his face neutral until Zeb poked him in the ribs. They collapsed again, though with care not to squish Afazeema’s hard work.

Zeb was already purring by the time the dust settled. Kallus was molded to Zeb’s body, a knee slotted between Zeb’s legs, his arms draped over Zeb’s shoulders. Kallus’ head was tucked underneath Zeb’s chin when Zeb told him, quite simply, “Lasats purr when they’re happy.”

“And?” Kallus was not one for half-truths.

“Or stressed!” Zeb griped, earning himself an affectionate jab. He kissed Kallus’ cheek then, gently and swiftly. “Or when they’re in love,” Zeb added. His body practically shook from the force of the purr once he said it. They were pressed so tightly together that Kallus could hardly believe he hadn’t developed the ability to purr as well.

Kallus held Zeb’s gaze when he tipped his head lower. There was so much relief there. Relief and adoration, Kallus thought, that must have been mirrored a thousand times in his own eyes when he replied, “I love you, too, Garazeb Orrelios.”

He dragged his fingers down Zeb’s chin, maybe too roughly, or not roughly enough. It didn’t matter. Kallus was finally happy. He kissed Zeb and hoped he could catch that joy, sweet like nectarwine on his tongue.

His heart had never been so full. Zeb, lying halfway on top of him, had never been heavier. Kallus tickled him into a more suitable position. When they were done fussing, they merely stared at one another. The world was quiet. Infinite.

They paid dearly for those few moments of silence and solitude, of course. Kallus was trying to kiss Zeb again when the children attacked, climbing over the pair of them and tossing flowers in the air. Myriad colors swirled in a dazzling rainbow cyclone and landed on their clothing, in Kallus’ beard, and in Zeb’s fur. Zeb growled when Kallus called him beautiful. The children shrieked when Zeb picked them all up in a single movement and heaved them onto his back to be carried off into town. He was a grand beast with five heads and far more than two legs--excessive, and no doubt draining--, and Kallus would not have traded him for a thousand planets.

Kallus stood and followed. Only Afazeema had escaped Zeb’s wrath, and she put a garland of _Gara_ flowers on Kallus’ head before taking his hand. Her smile was as soft and bright as the Lira San sun when she pointed to Zeb, who had been given his own crown of yellow flowers.

“Thank you,” he told the girl. He squeezed her hand a couple times, then helped her onto his back so they could catch up to Zeb. When they did, Zeb reached for Kallus’ hand, and held it gently as they walked.

Lira San shined brilliantly ahead of them.


End file.
